


Sponge Cake for Four

by Seeking7



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: All four of them become obsessed with their not-quite-foodstuff, CactusJuice!Four, Crack, Fluff, Hyrule discovers mayonnaise, Hyrule makes bad decisions, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Sickfic, Sky discovers butter, Time is a cool dad, Twilight is a tired dad, Warriors and Legend bet over stupid stuff, Wind discovers brown sugar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:33:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25336915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeking7/pseuds/Seeking7
Summary: Four was sick.Very sick.To make him feel better, the Links decide to bake a cake. They're sent out in pairs to get the ingredients, and even though all of them have the Triforce of Courage, it would have been far more helpful if just one of them had the Triforce of Wisdom.(Includes: Hyrule discovering mayonnaise, Sky discovering butter, Wind discovering brown sugar, Warriors literally flexing on random npcs, Legend catching bugs that don't exist, and Time forgetting that he's supposed to be the resident adult.)
Relationships: Four & Hyrule & Legend & Sky & Time & Twilight & Warriors & Wild & Wind (Linked Universe)
Comments: 54
Kudos: 212





	Sponge Cake for Four

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to all of those who frequent the supportive chats on the LU Discord, especially those who have been stressed or hurting over the recent string of events developing there. I love you all so so so much and I hope the fic is able to make you smile. 
> 
> ~~~~~~~~ 
> 
> Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.  
> (-John Lennon)

Four was sick.

Very sick.

At first, no one had thought anything of it. The Links had been slogging through the underbrush of Wild's Great Hyrule Forest when Four had let out his first, pitiful cough, and everyone had chalked it up to the wet air and clouds of gnats flitting through the foliage. Even Four himself had insisted that there wasn't anything to be worried about. Three days later, when they had first crossed the portal into Twilight's Hyrule, the smithy had a queer, greenish tint to his face and a permanent sheet of sweat on his neck. Once again, he'd brushed it away as "portal-sickness" and the casual byproduct of taking night watch too many nights in a row.

It was when the Links had rented out a dinky suite in Castle Town's largest inn that Four had fainted.

A week had passed since then, and nobody was willing to continue adventuring until the smithy had recovered. But there was something restless in the Hero's Spirit, and everyone (except the nearly comatose Four) felt it sizzling in the room. Wind was the first one to break.

"Can I go outside?"

Twilight snorted and continued mending the tear in Wild's tunic.

"Where will you go? Castle Town is huge. You'll get lost," Twilight finally replied.

"I don't know," Wind said, "anywhere is better than here."

He was right. The suite wasn't built for five people, much less nine. Everyone was trying to make the best with what they had, however. Time, Sky, and Wild were hard at work trying to fix the stove, bumping elbows and foreheads every few seconds, while Legend, Warriors, and Hyrule were strategizing how to best reorganize the bedrolls. Twilight had been left on babysitting duty, which entailed watching after Wind and a bedridden Four. The former was proving to be far more taxing than the latter.

"There's nothing to do out there," Twilight remarked as he examined the freshly-mended cloth. "Wild has all the food we need, so there's no point in going to the market, and they still haven't cleaned the streets after the livestock auction yesterday. You'll probably get just as sick as Four if you go out, and, if that doesn't happen, you'll certainly come back sweaty and dirty."

"I don't mind a little dirt," Wind asserted.

"You'll start minding it when you come back and remember that we don't have a tin tub for you to take a bath in."

"I can just borrow the one from the innkeeper!"

"You really would borrow a tub from _that_ guy?" Legend questioned. "I bet you twenty rupees that he hasn't taken a bath since Twilight was born."

Twilight raised an eyebrow, whether from the sudden intrusion or general exasperation it was impossible to tell. Sweat shimmered on the rancher’s face and the bags underneath his eyes started to looked more like bruises as the argument swelled around him. It didn't take a genius to see that he wanted to go outside just as much as anyone else, but spending five days crammed together in a small apartment had diminished everyone's patience to almost nothing. Wind looked like he was ready to summon a hurricane before Four spoke up.

"Guys....please...argue quietly. My head hurts."

The room fell into immediate silence, both because of the unexpected request and the fact that Four hadn't strung together that many words in the past week. The Links looked at each other awkwardly, waiting for someone else to ask the question they were all wondering.

"Four," Hyrule whispered, stepping closer to the bedroll the tiny smithy was stretched out on. He brushed a tiny, blond curl from Four's forehead. "Are you feeling any better?"

Four was about to answer in the affirmative when he let out a sudden, wall-shaking cough.

"I guess not," Legend grumbled, yelping as Warriors elbowed him between the ribs.

"You know," Warriors began, "back when I was fighting in the war, soldiers got sick all the time. Lana used to bake these little sponge cakes for them, I don't know how or where she did it, but they always used to cheer up everyone in the infirmary. Mixed with a little bit of milk, they can do wonders for someone with a bad cough."

"What are we supposed to do with this information?" Twilight questioned, cringing at the unintentional ire in his own words.

"Bake a cake!" Wild and Wind chimed.

"Bake a cake?" Twilight began. The exhaustion was thick in his voice. "Do you really think that'll--"

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Time remarked. Twilight blushed furiously and pretended he didn't say anything. "I understand Twilight's reservations, I share them, in fact, but if we can do something to help the little one, we should. But you're the boss, Twilight. You know this town better than any of us."

Having his own fears validated by someone else softened Twilight's original objection. He set the mended tunic down on his lap. Was it his right to keep everyone cooped up in here just because there was a possibility they could get sick or injured? His eyes fell on Four's small, bedridden form, cocooned by yellowed sheets, wincing as the only bed in the suite squealed with each minute movement. 

"Alright. Let's bake this cake."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The plan was perfect.

Wild had delegated tasks to each of the Links with exceptional precision. He would stay in the suite with Hyrule in order to look after Four and prepare the kitchen, Time and Wind would go out to get flour and sugar, Twilight and Sky would get the butter and eggs, and Warriors and Legend would-- 

“Wild, say it again, why is it that everyone else gets to look for real ingredients while Angel Hair and I are stuck looking for a _butterfly?”_ Legend demanded. Warriors rolled his eyes at the nickname, subconsciously running a hand through his hair as he waited for Wild’s explanation.

“Well, Four likes bugs. And I’m not asking you to hunt for just any butterfly,” Wild said with a flourish as he tried (and failed) to light the stove. “You’ve been tasked with finding the golden goddess butterfly! Think, what would make Four happier than seeing one of those? I’m sure you know how rare and valuable they are.” 

“I don’t think--,” Warriors began.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re willing to help,” Wild interjected. Warriors and Legend sputtered in protest as Wild pushed them out of the suite and locked the door behind him. 

The two stood on the wooden landing, eyebrows cinched in irritation and skin itching from the cheap burlap shirts Twilight had made everyone put on. The farmer had said something or other about blending in with the populace and respecting local culture and causing as little of a ruckus as possible. Both Warriors and Legend were experienced ruckus-makers, and didn’t take kindly to their favorite pastime being haughtily torn away. As the two descended the rickety inn stairs, their grumbles grew louder.

“He knows just as well as we do that those butterflies don’t exist,” Warriors snorted. 

“I bet fifty rupees that he’s doing this just to get us out of his hair,” Legend said. Warriors nodded in agreement as the two arrived at the bottom floor of the inn and made their way out into the street, not without handing the grimy innkeeper a suspicious glance.

“Hey,” Warriors began as the two mindlessly meandered through the labyrinth of alleyways, “I bet you a hundred rupees that we won’t be able to find one of those stupid things.” 

Even though Legend secretly agreed, his competitiveness spoke before his reason could. “Oh yeah? I bet you a hundred and fifty that we _will_ find one, and that I’ll be the one to do so!” 

Warriors rolled his eyes and casually picked up an apple from a fruitsellers’ stand as they passed by. He tossed a green rupee at the vendor and turned to Legend. “Whatever you say, bling-bling-boy.” 

“ _...bling-bling-boy_?” 

“Hey, if you don’t like the nickname, wear less jewelry.” 

“This isn’t jewelry, these are expertly enchanted--” 

“I’m going to go look for this nonexistent butterfly,” Warriors interrupted. “You can join me, or sit here in the street and lament your slightly injured ego.” 

Legend had half a mind to run back and buy an apple just to throw at Warriors’ head, but he thought better of it.

Getting 150 rupees from the pompous captain just for finding a butterfly would be a much better form of revenge. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Wind couldn’t stop smiling. 

“We’re out, Time! We’re out! Finally!” Wind skipped alongside Time as they made their way through the outdoor market. “Oh to see the sun! To smell the air! To finally be out of there!” 

“Did Tetra teach you that song?” Time asked as he cast a questioning glance at the market stalls in front of him. No sign of a flour or sugar vendor. 

“No, I just made it up. What, you don’t like it? You look pretty grumpy.” 

“I’m just thinking. It’s late afternoon, and sugar and flour are usually the first to go out of stock on market mornings, at least from my experience. We’ll be lucky if we find anything at all.” 

“Is that so?” Wind muttered. “What about that guy?” The sailor pointed across the street to a little white-hutted stall flanked by innumerable sacks of white powder. “Maybe I’m wrong, but that looks a lot like sugar and flour.” 

Time’s eyebrows shot up into his forehead. He took Wind’s hand and crossed the street, carefully weaving through the stampede of people and dogs and horses milling about the market as they did so. Upon closer inspection, the vendor’s products were, without a doubt, sugar and flour. Time’s eyebrows furrowed. This was very odd. He knelt down by one seedy-looking bag of flour and ran his hand through the pile at the top, letting the white powder sift through his fingers. Wind ran over to the other side of the stall, ignoring the exasperated look the teenage vendor sent his way, and scrutinized the slumped bags of sugar as one might stare at an odd-looking bug. 

“Is this sugar rotten?” Wind asked suddenly. The vendor looked up with a start, face red from wafting in and out of sleep for the past six hours. His expression grew flat when he saw the sugar Wind cupped in his hands.

“Kid, you never seen brown sugar before?” 

“Brown sugar?” 

The vendor blinked in a slow, lazy way that reminded Wind strongly of Wolfie. “Brown sugar. Yes.” 

“You mean rotten sugar.”

“No. I mean brown sugar. It ain’t rotten. My pa doesn’t sell rotten stuff. We may be poor people, but we ain’t thieves.” 

“I’d like to contend with that last point,” Time remarked. His brown shirt was white with flour, and an extremely uncharacteristic snarl sat on the edges of his lips. “Fifty rupees for three scoops of flour?” 

“Sir, I didn’t make the prices,” the vendor said, nearly falling out of his chair as Time edged closer to him. 

“Well, tell whoever did to lower them. I know poorly processed flour when I see it. A dodongo’s weight of this stuff isn’t worth five rupees.” 

The vendor’s voice grew red, and his ears stuck out against the sides of his head. The shyness was gone from his voice. “I ain’t a thief. This is the best flour and sugar in Hyrule!” 

“Yeah?” Time responded, leaning closer. “Would you like to tell me why I found three cockroaches sleeping in this sack alone?” The old man dropped a bag of soggy flour in front of the vendor, stifling a smile when a cluster of cockroaches erupted from the bag and scampered every which way. 

“Come on Wind, let’s find somewhere else to get the stuff from,” Time said as he walked past the screaming vendor. No response. The hairs at the back of his head stood up, and his searching grew frantic. “Wind?” 

“Over here!” A familiar voice chimed. “Rotten sugar tastes way better than you would think. It’s really good. You should try some. Actually I think that maybe you’ve already tried some because the guy looked at me all weird when I first tried it and--” 

Time turned around to see Wind’s tiny figure pressed between two massive bags of brown sugar. His face and lips, which were moving so fast they were a blur, were dusted with crystals. Hsi pupils were dilated so wide that there was only a scrim of blue around them.

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” Wind said, standing up and brushing a mixture of brown sugar and dirt off his pants. “Which way first? Maybe that way? Do you want to race me? I’m faster than you. I want to race. Okay, let’s go!” 

Before Time could say another word, Wind was already pirouetting his way across the marketplace. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Wild wanted us to get eggs and butter, right?” Sky asked Twilight. 

The rancher waved away the gnats clouding the air and nodded. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s butter?” 

Twilight nodded his head again, eyes cloudy in a way that betrayed his mind was focused on something else entirely, and sputtered aloud when he finally processed Sky’s question. 

“Did you just ask what’s _butter?”_

Sky’s face fell, and the Skylofian fiddled with the corner of his sailcloth. “Is this a ‘cow’ thing?” 

“A _cow_ thing?” 

“Twilight, I don’t know what those are, but you guys are always talking about things like _‘cows’_ and _‘sheep,’_ and you always do it in the context of milk and other cooking ingredients. I just guessed that butter was one of them.” 

Twilight blinked quickly and failed to stifle a smile. There were a lot of things he liked about Sky, and the sincerity and gentleness of the other hero were near the top of that last. 

“Well, you’re right. Yes. Butter is a ‘cow thing.’ It's made from milk. You’ll like it.” 

Sky nodded and drew a little closer to Twilight as they made their way through quiet streets. They had taken a detour around the inn that had dropped them off in the quietest corner of the market, and every few minutes the pair had to stop so Twilight could wave and hug and make small talk with a random acquaintance. The sun had already started to slip below the horizon when they finally arrived at a small, squat cottage snuggled between two stone buildings. Twilight knocked on the door and made a motion for Sky to step back.

“Did I do something wrong?” the Skylofian asked. 

“No, no, it’s just that Betty is really...affectionate. She supplies the local bar with all the dairy products they need, but not without first---” 

Twilight’s words were cut short as a tiny woman burst out of the door and wrapped her small, bony hands around the rancher’s middle. It was only after she had held Twilight aloft for several seconds and nearly squeezed all the air out of his lungs that she set him back down and pressed the palms of her hands to his cheeks. 

“Hello, Linky! I’ve missed you! How are you? I love that handsome tattoo on your forehead. You know that my precious little Weimin used to have a tattoo like that on his arm? You remind me so much of him. And who’s your friend? Do you need something? I can help you. Butter or eggs? Or both?” 

The little old lady had already made her way back inside the house, moving with a level of speed and agility Sky would have thought impossible for a woman her age. The two heroes stepped shyly over the house’s threshold and hovered awkwardly by the door. 

“We’re baking a sponge cake for a friend, and we just wanted to grab some eggs and butter,” Twilight explained.

“I’ve got quail, chicken, and duck eggs. Which one do you want, Linky?” 

Sky giggled into his sailcloth and Twilight hid his head in his hands. 

“Chicken, please. That’s all we need. And some butter too.”

The old woman nestled a wicker basket on her hip and carefully placed the eggs and wrapped butter sticks inside before handing it off to Twilight. Sky stared at the strangely-packaged sticks of butter with unadulterated curiosity. 

“Your friend looks like he’s never seen a stick of butter in his life! What’s wrong with you, boy?” Betty asked as she knocked her knuckles on Sky’s forehead. Twilight turned scarlet and made an awkward gesture that was a cross between a wave and an outstretched palm. 

“Well,” Twilight began, “he’s actually--” 

“I’ve never tried butter before,” Sky interrupted. “Is it good?” 

“Is it good? _Is it good?_ ” Betty squealed. “Of _course_ it’s good! I made it with my own, wrinkled hands, and nothing will come out of this house and into your kitchen that isn’t _perfect_! Boy, I can’t believe it. Never tried butter? Linky, what kind of friend are you? That’s a problem I’m going to fix right now.” The woman dashed off to her kitchen and returned with a small piece of bread with what Sky assumed to be butter on top. 

“Should I eat it?” Sky asked.

“Of course you should!” Betty exclaimed, half in exasperation and half in excitement. “I’m not holding it up under your nose so you can _smell_ it!” 

Sky gingerly took the plate into his hand and nibbled at the edge of the buttered toast. 

His eyes grew huge. 

“Whoah…” 

“I know,” Betty said, a satisfied grin on her face. “It’s fantastic, isn’t it?” 

“It--yeah. Yeah it is,” Sky said, voice hushed in admiration. “Can I have my own stick?” 

“For what?” Twilight asked. “Just to hang out with?” 

“No, Linky, to _eat!_ This boy has far more sense than you. He knows art when he sees it,” the woman disappeared into the back room and returned with two sticks of butter, handing one off to Sky. With uncharacteristic eagerness, the Skyloftian tore off the paper wrap and took a massive bite. 

“Sky, that’s not...that’s not how you...” Twilight began.

“What’s that you’re saying?” Betty asked between a mouthful of butter. 

Twilight sighed. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Hyrule mopped Four’s feverish face with a wet rag and turned to Wild. 

“His fever isn’t letting down,” Hyrule remarked as he placed the back of his palm to Four’s forehead. Wild gave the smithy a concerned look as he stoked the oven fire. 

“Hmmm. I was thinking that he would do a little better after we opened the windows, but I guess not,” Wild remarked. Four let out a pitiful groan, and the two other heroes cringed sympathetically. 

“Do you think the innkeeper might have any medicine? I can run down and ask.” 

“That sounds like a great--ugh!” Wild stopped mid-sentence and slapped himself on the forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Hyrule stood up from beside Four and made his way next to Wild, giving the stove a bitter glance in case it had been the cause for his friend’s sudden outburst. 

“I forgot to have anyone get vanilla extract, baking powder, _and_ powdered sugar! We won’t be able to make anything!” 

Hyrule tried not to grin. Classic Wild. Of course he had remembered to send Legend and Warriors off on a wild goose chase to keep them away from the kitchen, but still forgot three critical cooking ingredients.

“Maybe the innkeep has some?” Hyrule suggested. “I can ask while I’m looking for the medicine.”

Wild chewed on his bottom lip and leaned back against the counter, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “That’s a good idea. The inn had those god-awful biscuits for breakfast a few days ago, if I remember right, and I think they must have used at least some baking powder for it. Don’t know about the other things, though. Let me know if they don’t have anything so I can let Wind know, alright?” 

Hyrule nodded, combing a hand through his hair and saying goodbye to Four before he left. He made his way down the stairs, waving awkwardly at a moony-eyed toddler he passed on the third floor, and tried to remember which flat the innkeeper lived on. He hadn’t said anything about it when they’d first come, so perhaps the first floor was the best bet. 

The traveler slipped out of the staircase archway and onto the first floor. The place was thriving with steaming, sweaty masses of people, and conversation hung thick and smoky in the air. Nobody gave Hyrule a second look or even a second thought as he made his way to the community kitchen, and it was oddly comforting to feel invisible in such a big crowd. 

He caught sight of the innkeeper lingering at the kitchen doorway, angrily waving a broom at a cluster of rats and swearing poetically. Hyrule tapped his shoulder and recoiled when the redfaced innkeeper turned to snarl at him. 

“Whaddya want?” 

“I was wondering if you had any baking powder? Or vanilla extract? Or powdered sugar? Or medicine?” Hyrule heard himself stammer. 

“Is that what kids are smoking these days? Whatever. Back of the kitchen. Third shelf to the right. Medicine’s on the fourth. Can’t miss it. Bring it back before dinner or the missus’ll have my head.” 

“Thank you, sir!” Hyrule chimed, slipping into the kitchen and investigating the shelves at the back. He found the kitchen ingredients almost immediately -- they had all been neatly labeled and carefully organized by the innkeeper’s much more agreeable wife -- but found himself at a loss when it came to the medicine. Balancing the powdered sugar, vanilla extract, and baking powder in the crook of his arm, Hyrule stood on his toe tips to peer over the highest shelf. Two glass bottles stood next to each other, one filled with green liquid and the other with black. Hyrule started to sweat. Which one of them was the medicine? He cast an anxious glance over at the innkeeper, who was presently cursing the mother and grandmothers and great-great grandmothers of the rats who plagued his kitchen, and turned back to the two jars.

The green one looked a little more benign. It was probably the better choice. 

Hyrule prodded the bottle’s base with an outstretched finger, flicking and edging it forward, and thanked the goddesses when he caught it right before it toppled off the shelf. Armed with his small collection of bottles and boxes, Hyrule tiptoed his way out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. The hustle and bustle and stench of the street faded behind him. A stray breeze blew in through the stone walls and cooled the sweat trickling down his back. His heartbeat slowed. 

Despite all the chaos the past few months had been, it suddenly hit him how grateful he was for all his brothers. A subconscious smile slipped onto his face as he crept back into the suite. Wild welcomed him with a half-hearted wave, suddenly taking a much more intense interest in the traveler’s return when Hyrule announced he had found all of the ingredients. 

“Oh, they had everything?” 

“I guess so,” Hyrule said as he splayed the materials out on the counter. For a split second he thought to confess the odd medicine-bottle situation with Wild, but he couldn’t find the fortitude to bring it up. “Should I give the medicine to Four? Or is this something you gotta put into the cake and then give to him?” 

Wild gave the medicine a quick glance as he set to preparing the pots and bowls and cups and spoons he needed for the cake. 

“If that’s liquid medicine you can probably just give it to him straight. Maybe a teaspoon? Water it down just in case. It’s probably not very potent. If anything it’ll just help him sleep.” 

Hyrule nodded in distracted agreement as he poured the clear, spearmint-colored liquid into the teaspoon. He let out a grunt as he kneeled besides Four and teased the spoon against the smithy’s lips. 

“Open up, Four, this’ll help you sleep,” Hyrule cooed. After a few more minutes of prodding, Four finally relented. “There you go. I’m sure you feel better already.” 

Four’s eyelids scrunched together before opening up impossibly wide. His pupils were dilated massively, and Hyrule scooted backwards in shock. 

“ooooOOOOOooooO!” Four suddenly squealed.

Hyrule’s heartbeat raced, and his eyes met with those of an equally-unsettled Wild. 

_That had definitely_ **_not_ ** _been medicine._

Wild reached for the glass bottle before Hyrule could and turned it over to investigate the label. 

“Do you know what it says?” Hyrule asked, almost fearfully. 

“Twilight’s been teaching me some of his Hylian lately, but I’m still no good at it.”

“Why do you say that?” 

“Because I’m trying to read the label and apparently it says ‘cactus juice.’ That can’t be right.” 

Hyrule fidgeted awkwardly in his seat. Four let out another wide-eyed howl and tugged earnestly at the traveler’s sleeve. 

“Who lit Wild on fire?” Four asked.

“So you’re sure that wasn’t medicine?” Hyrule asked, pulling Four into an awkward hug and patting down the smithy’s frizzled hair.

“Yeah. Pretty sure,” Wild said. 

Four gave out a drunken sob and cradled Hyrule’s face in his hands. 

“Sir, please tell me you’ve found my mayonnaise,” the smithy begged. 

“I--what?” 

“My mayonnaise!” Four cried, “I can’t live without it. I’ll never know joy again!” 

Wild glared at Hyrule. 

“You’re babysitting him. I’m going to get started on the cake,” he finally said.

Hyrule groaned. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“You owe me 150 rupees,” Legend said, a massive, snarky grin plastered on his face. 

“In any other situation I would have told you to shut up, but honestly, I’m really impressed that you were able to find it,” Warriors confessed, staring at the Golden Goddess butterfly flitting around the glass bottle Legend held. The veteran stared at him in surprise. 

“Oh. Well, thanks,” Legend said softly. “I would say you too, but, you know, it’s not really applicable.” 

Warriors jaw worked as he tried to come up with a witty response, but Legend beat him to it. 

“You know, I take it back. I’m impressed that you were able to pull a Hyrule so easily.” 

“Pull of a Hyrule?” Warrior challenged. “What?” 

“Pull a Hyrule,” Legend explained, gesturing to the clustered buildings flanking the cobblestone pathway they were walking along. “That means to get us lost in a matter of minutes.” 

“Get us lost? I didn’t get anyone lost! You’re your own person. You didn’t need to follow me,” Warriors spat. Legend had always been a wild card, and spending the past three hours with him, running and chasing after a stupid butterfly, had drained any patience Warriors had left. 

“I felt bad for you. I knew you were going to get lost, so I came along. Didn’t want you to be lonely, you know,” Legend said. 

“Can you do me a favor?” Warriors asked as he gave the unfamiliar alleyway a hard glare. 

“What?” 

“Stop talking.” 

Legend snorted, and the two walked along in awkward silence. The sun had started to set, and the last streaks of light were fading from the sky when Warriors finally suggested they ask someone for help. Legend insisted that they would eventually find their way back and that there was no point in asking for directions. Castle Town couldn’t be that big, anyway. Another argument threatened to break out when a cheery, sugary voice cut through the chatter. 

“Hello, boys, that’s a lovely butterfly you have there…” 

Warrior’s eyes widened at the familiar sound, and he turned around in search of the speaker. A little girl stood on the steps of a broad-chested stone building, twirling a cloth parasol between her fingers. Her eyes glimmered when they alighted on Warriors. 

“Agitha! What a pleasure to see you again!” Warriors exclaimed. Legend stared on in suspicious silence as the two embraced and shared excited, whispered tales of where they had been and what they had been doing since they last saw each other. 

“Why don’t you visit me in my castle? We can have some tea together before you go,” Agitha giggled. Warriors smiled and nodded.

Legend immediately decided that he didn’t like her.

“Warriors, we don’t have time for this. We need to get back to the inn.” 

“The inn? I know where that is!” Agitha exclaimed, a ditzy expression on her face as she placed a finger on her lips. 

“Are you gonna tell us, then?” Legend asked. He pressed the butterfly jar closed to his chest for a reason he couldn’t quite explain. 

“I’ll tell you.... _if_ you have tea with me!” Agitha exclaimed.

“C’mon Legend, it’ll only be a few minutes, and then we’ll be able to go back to the inn,” Warriors pleaded. Legend looked suspiciously at Agitha, then Warriors, then back to Agitha.

“Fine. Ten minutes. And then we go to the inn.” 

Agitha ushered the two heroes inside her ‘castle’ and urged them to take a seat. She retreated to the back and returned with a china tea set that was far too small to be anything but a girl’s toy. Legend bit his lip and stared at the opulent furnishing as Warriors and Agitha chatted and sipped on the too-sweet tea. There was something off about this place. Something off about _her._

Legend stared at the lovely golden butterfly flitting about in the jar. Something akin to protectiveness flared in his chest. The minutes passed by slowly, and Legend’s tea remained untouched and unwanted.

“Alright, Agitha,” Warriors finally said, “it’s been nice seeing you, but we need to go. Can you tell us the instructions to the inn?” 

The girl nodded, fingers fiddling with the elaborate embroidery of her collar. “Well, first, I need something from you.” 

“I knew it!” Legend exclaimed, placing a foot on the table and pointing an accusatory finger in Agithat’s face. “You want our butterfly! Well let me tell you something, lady, you’re not going to have it.” Legend grinned wickedly. Warriors pulled at the back of the veteran’s tunic in a desperate attempt to placate him. 

“I just--” Agitha began.

“You just want something that isn’t yours. Did you catch it?” Legend hissed. “Did you spend three hours running around Hyrule field trying to get this thing in a bottle? Huh? Yeah. Didn’t think so, _Agitha_.” Legend asserted. 

“Why is your friend so mean, Link?” Agitha said, tears welling in her eyes. “I just want the butterfly! That’s all! Look at how lovely she is! She’ll be much happier here with me than anywhere else.” 

“No, she’ll be much happier with _me,”_ Legend shouted. 

“You’re a horrible person! How could you be so heartless?” 

“I’ve got 20 hearts, thank you very much, and you can bet that--” 

“Guys!” Warriors shouted. His baritone lilt cut through the high-pitched squabbling. “Enough of this. We can share the butterfly.” 

“What does that mean?” Agitha questioned. 

“We….” Warriors eyes went wide. 

What _did_ he mean? 

“We can split it down the middle!” he suggested at last. 

The look of abject horror on both Legend and Agitha’s face made it clear that this had not been the right thing to say. 

The argument exploded once again. Legend’s voice escalated to an almost inaudible squeal, and Agitha was gesticulating so widely that Warriors was willing to bet something would be accidentally broken in the next few seconds. The captain shared an uneasy glance with the butterfly, who seemed to be just as fed up with the situation as he was. Warrior’s eyes drifted to the window behind him, to Legend, and back to the window.

A very bad idea started to stitch itself together at the back of his mind. 

“Agitha, what’s that?” Warriors asked, pointing dramatically to a shadowy corner of the room. The girl looked around, eyes wide and fingers pressed to her chin. The captain immediately capitalized off her distraction, wrapping his arms around Legend’s waist and vaulting out of the window. The glass shattered behind them and the two hit the cobblestone street at a myriad of odd angles, but neither of them wasted a second in their escape. 

The two sprinted down the street, the night time wind streaming through their head and the stupidest of smiles slathered on their faces, giggling and cursing and swearing as Legend triumphantly wove the butterfly bottle in the air. 

They were still lost, but neither of them cared. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Wind had been visibly vibrating for the past three hours and hadn’t stopped talking since then. 

Time had heard of children getting hyper on sugar, but this was something unprecedented. They had walked thirty minutes to the nearest sugar and flour refinery to get some _actual_ ingredients, and Wind hadn’t stopped backflipping and singing and giggling. Even as they made their way across Hyrule Field and approached the gates of Castle Town, it didn’t look like Wind’s enthusiasm was going to die down anytime soon.

“Time, Time, Time, look at that cloud. It looks like a happy face! I’m feeling pretty happy. Are you feeling happy? Hey, do you want to play a game? Want to race again? Actually no, I don’t want to race. I’m tired. Can you carry me on your shoulders? Please? Okay, no, wait, stop! Please, Time! Only for a little bit! I just want to feel tall. Come on!” 

“No, Wind, you’re too heavy to sit on my shoulders,” Time repeated. He was pretty sure he had said this exact sentence at least thirty times in the past ten minutes. If this was what having kids was like, he would need to have a serious chat with Malon. 

“Please? Time, look at how small and skinny I am!” Wind squatted on his legs and sucked his stomach so far in that his ribs pressed against the fabric of his tunic. “You can carry me on your shoulders without a problem. Listen, I can even hold the flour for me so you won’t have to. Wait, give it to me! C’mon, Time!” 

“Wind, if I give you the flour and you sit on my shoulders, I’m the one who’s technically carrying it.” 

“Time, please?” The sailor grabbed at the fabric of Time’s tunic and stared up with massive, desperate eyes. “C’mon on. It’ll be fun!” 

Time was sorely tempted, but he shook his head regardless. His back had been hurting him in the past days -- whether that was because of his worn-out bedroll or a side effect of growing older, he still wasn’t sure -- and he didn’t want to risk getting an injury. Four being sick was already bad enough. Wind’s face fell and Time’s heart twinged with guilt. 

“We can play a different game, though,” the old man suggested, eyes twinkling with a mischief that rivaled Wind’s own. 

“What’s tha--” Wind began, before a ball of flour hit him right between the shoulderblades. The sailor turned around in shock, coughing as the white powder clouded up and settled on the skin of his neck. 

“There isn’t any snow, but we can still have a snowball fight of our own. What do you think about that, Wind?” Time’s hands had already moved to crunch another fistful of flour into a ball, and Wind’s eyes widened in delight. 

“You’re on, old man!” 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Hyrule had thought bringing Four the ‘medicine’ would have made things better. 

It did not. 

“ _HYRULE!”_ Four shrieked, his face wet with tears. “ _I NEED MAYONNAISE!!”_

“Four, I--” 

_“PLEASE! I MUST ATONE FOR MY SINS!”_

Wild hadn’t stopped glaring at Hyrule since Four had descended into cactus-juice-induced insanity. The traveler shrugged helplessly, at a complete loss for what to do, and blinked blearily against the low candle light. The sun had set at least an hour ago, and Sky and Twilight had been the only ones to come back. The former’s face had been completely slathered in butter and he had an uncomfortably queasy look on his face. Twilight had a scowl on his face that would have put Ganondorf to shame, and as soon as the rancher had stepped foot in the suite, he had announced that he was going to bed. 

Nobody had been able to do any sleeping, however, considering Four’s current predicament. 

“WOAH, Hyrule, do you see that?” Four suddenly asked, his pupils dilated and his focus spasmodic. 

“What do I see, Four?” Hyrule responded. It was getting harder and harder to keep his voice calm. 

“That gorgeous girl,” the smithy replied. 

He was pointing at his pillow. 

“Yeah, she is pretty nice-looking,” Hyrule placated. Twilight, Wild, and Sky smirked in the background. 

“But she’s not as pretty as my darling mayonnaise,” Four said, voice cracking. His vision grew blurry and he buried his face in Hyrule’s shoulder before bursting into ugly sobs. Hyrule patted Four’s back and stared helplessly at his companions, not sure how to handle the crying, shaking boy curled up by his side. Sky, face still pale and sweaty from the inordinate amount of straight butter he had consumed over the past few hours, waved his hand awkwardly. 

“You know, if you would like me too, I can go buy some mayonnaise from Betty.” 

Hyrule was about to ask who on earth Betty was and why she would have mayonnaise on hand before Four cut him off.

“REALLY? Oh thank you so so much. You’re so nice. I’m sorry that you have an octopus on your head, I hope it gets better.” 

Sky and Hyrule shared a confused stare. 

“I’ll be on my way,” Sky said before slipping out. Hyrule watched him go, heart breaking as his only ally disappeared from the suite. 

Twilight turned over in his bedroll with a grunt. Wild stared blankly at the random assortment of cake ingredients sitting on the counter. There wasn’t much he could do until Time and Wind came back with the flour and sugar, so they were stuck playing the waiting game. 

Or, at least, Wild was stuck playing the waiting game. 

Hyrule was stuck playing the try-to-keep-a-straight-face-around-Four game. And he was losing. Miserably. 

The feverish smithy wrapped his arms around Hyrule and rested his head on the traveler’s collarbone, staring blankly at something in the corner of the room. He kept looking up at Hyrule and back at the corner of the room, as if waiting for his friend to make some remark about whatever he was seeing. 

“Hyrule,” Four whispered.

“Yes?” 

“Did you wash your eyebrows today?” 

Wild let out a snort that sounded like a cross between a frog and a duck being stepped on. Twilight pressed a hand to his face and tried to swallow his laughter. 

“I don’t think I did, Four.” 

Four gasped. “OOOH NO!! That’s REALLY bad. Hey, did you know that you have pretty hair?” 

“Oh....thank you?” 

Twilight wheezed into his pillow.

“Yeah, it’s really pretty,” Four continued. “I want some. Can I have some?” He lifted two small hands to grab Hyrule’s hair, and the traveler tried not to whimper as Four yanked a fistful downwards. “Whoaaaaaaa, how did you get it this color?”

“I, uh, I was born?” 

“Wow. Good work. That sounds hard,” Four mused as he let go of Hyrule’s hair. The traveler rubbed the sore spot on his scalp and almost shook with relief when he heard a familiar set of footsteps ascending the staircase. 

“Time’s back,” Twilight said. The smile in his voice was almost audible. 

The door opened with a defeated creek, and two ghostly figures, one tall and muscular and the other thin and wiry, wafted across the threshold. Four screamed, Hyrule cringed, Twilight stared, and Wild was up in an instant, hurling all manners of plates, pots, and pans and the two figures.

“Wild, Wild!” the taller ghost protested. 

"THEY KNOW WHO WE ARE!" Four shrieked.

"It's just us, Wild," the taller figure answered, wiping a sheet of flour off of his cheek. A familiar set of tribal markings came into view, and Wild visibly relaxed at the confirmation that these were indeed his friends and not the ghosts he feared.

"Did you make the cake? I want to eat the cake. Why are Four's eyes so wide? And why is he hugging Hyrule? Did you make him angry? Wild I want to eat the cake. Where is it?" Wind was already running around the room, plumes of flour fluffing into the air as he went. Twilight stared on in quiet exasperation, Four gawked, and Hyrule shook his head.

"I wasn't able to make the cake yet, Wind, because you guys were supposed to bring the flour and sugar. But I can get started!"

"About the flour, we happened to run into a small problem," Time confessed as he took a seat on the edge of Four's bed. The metal squealed. Four hugged Hyrule even tighter.

"And what's that?" Wild asked, voice uncharacteristically deadpan. "Wait, let me guess, you met a massive field monster that could only be conquered by relinquishing all the flour you had to it, and in a desperate bid to keep your precious dignity, you backtracked at the last moment, resulting in our flour being lost, our cake becoming an impossibility, and you two needing to take a bath."

Time had the decency to look sheepish.

"No no no, Wild, you got it all wrong,” Wind began. “Time threw a flour snowball at me! And then I threw one at him! And then he threw one at me, and then I threw one at him...Hyrule Field is all white now!" Wind had hopped onto the kitchen counter and backflipped onto his hands, white streamers of flour pouring from his tunic as he flipped over the sink. Wild looked like he couldn’t decide whether to try and scrape the flour together in a last attempt to salvage the cake or cry.

"You really did that, Old Man?" Twilight asked, face alight with something akin to admiration.

"Wind needed to get his energy out somehow," Time sagely replied as Wind promptly smacked into the bedframe. A massive cloud of flour exploded into the air. Hyrule sneezed and involuntarily let go of Four, who leapt up into the air and grabbed at the flakes of falling flour. 

“iT’s SNOwING!” Four said. 

“Yeah! Wind giggled. “Come here, Four, I can make it snow again. Come here! No, no, come back!” Four had vaulted over Wind’s outstretched arms and had shut himself in the kitchen cabinets. Wind sprinted after him and knocked over Wild, who had just finished scooping the flour off the counter and into his hands and now found it all over the kitchen instead. “Come back! Four! C’mon! I can make it snow again!” Wind’s begging and Four’s woozy retorts grew muffled from the confines of the cabinet. 

Hyrule collapsed head first on the bed and let out a massive groan. 

“I feel that,” a familiar voice chimed. 

Hyrule turned around to see Sky step over the suite threshold and close the door behind him. “Oh thank the goddesses you’re back, Sky,” Hyrule said. “I was going to go crazy. Do you have the mayonnaise? Maybe it’ll calm Four down.” 

Time stared on blankly as Sky passed Hyrule a Four-sized tub of mayonnaise. 

“Four!” Hyrule cooed, “I have your _mayonnaise!”_

A blond head popped out of one of the kitchen cabinets, quickly followed by the rest of the tiny body. 

“You do?” the smithy whispered, his voice tiny and unbelieving. 

Time, Twilight, Wild, Sky, and even Wind watched the scene in silence. Four extricated himself from the confines of the cabinet, backflipped onto the floor, let out a kitten sneeze, and crept his way over to the container Hyrule held in his outstretched arms. There was an expectant silence in the air. It couldn’t exactly be described as tension, but it was a close cousin. 

Four unscrewed the cap of the mayonnaise container with slow, reverent motions, eyes wide and heart thumping. He lifted it off and placed it on the bedsheets next to Hyrule, crawling up onto the bed alongside the traveler and cradling the container between his legs. For a few terse, hesitant seconds, Four’s fingers slid around the rim of the container, unsure how to approach this mystical, holy condiment. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he dipped his fingers into the buttery-looking substance. 

It didn’t stop with his fingers. Four first pressed his hand into the container, then his arm, then his shoulder, and looked about ready to slide his torso inside before Hyrule’s sense came back in full force. In one quick, swift movement, Hyrule pulled Four out of the mayonnaise and plopped him back on the bed. 

The tiny room shook with laughter, and even Four found himself grinning at the cheerly, silvery noise as he licked mayo off his fingers. Wind clambered onto the bed and wedged himself between Hyrule and Four, helping himself to a handful of mayonnaise. The sailor gagged and sneezed, sending another tremendous cloud of flour wafting into the air. 

Mayonnaise forgotten, Four turned his eyes up to the mushroom-cloud of flour in the air. His eyes sparkled. 

“It’s a GIaNT muSHROOM!” Four exclaimed in delight. His fingers grabbed at the air and small clumps of mayonnaise splattered against the wall. The laughter in the room grew louder, and Sky was giggling so hard that his face had turned red and no sound came out. “Wind, WiND! MaYBE ITS frIENDLY!” 

From the crazed look on Wind’s face, it was clear to see that the sailor was absolutely on board with this idea. The two climbed out of the bed and sat on the floor, picking at the flour-saturated cloth of Wind’s tunic and giggling riotously at each puff of flour. 

Conversation had broken out among the other Links, and as far as Hyrule could tell amidst the clamor, they were relating the events of their day to each other. 

His eyes drifted back to the tub of mayonnaise sitting next to him. 

He didn’t have anything else to do.

Might as well see what this thing tasted like. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Running through unfamiliar streets while high off adrenaline and the admiration for one’s own stupidity is one thing. 

Running through unfamiliar streets while high off adrenaline and the admiration of one’s own stupidity while shirtless was another thing _entirely_. 

And that was exactly what Legend and Warriors were doing. 

Their burlap shirts dangled uselessly from their hands as they sprinted through the streets, frightening stray cats and elderly housewives. Legend twirled the butterfly bottle between his fingers, holding it over his head like a relic of a culture long gone. Warriors’ ran behind him, occasionally throwing out a hand to poke the most ticklish spots on Legend’s back and surging ahead during the latter’s few seconds of weakness. They had forgotten that they had somewhere to be and obligations to fulfill until they quite literally bumped into the scowling innkeeper. 

“A man can’t even go out for a smoke without being bothered by one of you kids, huh?” the man grumbled. The dim lamplight barely illuminated the street in front of the inn, but it didn’t take a quarter of a brain cell to realize that the innkeeper was in a far more sour mood than he was letting on. 

“Is something wrong, sir?” Warriors asked. 

“Yeah, actually. Put on a shirt, wouldya? There’s a time and place for flaunting your abs, but we’ve got respectable ladies inside.” The innkeeper took a satisfied sip on his cigarette as Legend blushed and put his shirt back on. Warriors watched his companion’s pitiful display of cowardice and took a step towards the innkeeper, flexing his pectorals in a way that clearly asserted his dominance. 

“You can’t _pay_ me to put that Goddess-forsaken burlap shirt back on,” Warriors said. The innkeeper’s jaw worked peevishly, but one more ripple of Warriors muscles was enough to get him to shut his mouth. “That’s what I thought,” the Captain said with a satisfied grin.

The innkeeper’s face twisted in embarrassment, and his rat-like eyes glittered in the dark. “Anyways, if you would do me the favor of getting your crackheaded brothers to lower their voices, maybe I won’t call the Royal Guard on you.” 

“Did they do something wrong?” Legend asked.

“Do something wrong? Oh, no, of course not. If laughing so hard none of my other patrons can sleep and screaming ‘mushy giant friend’ and ‘Hyrule if you eat that much mayo you’ll throw up’ at the top of their voices isn’t a slight, then you’ve got a family of saints on your hand.” 

The innkeeper exhaled sharply and sent two jets of cigarette smoke streaming from his nostrils. The smoke clouded around the base of his nose and sifted almost ominously through the low lamplight. Legend and Warriors shivered, not from the unspoken threat the innkeeper was trying to impart on them, but from the prospect of what awaited them upstairs. 

“Well, we’ll be sure to do that,” Warriors promised. 

The two sprinted up the stairs, chests and lungs still raw from the biting breeze outside, trying to outrun the nervous thoughts prickling at the back of their heads. Their brothers were a reasonable bunch, a little odd at times, but reasonable. Most of the time things were quiet and respectable, if not a little tense, and the exceptionally out-of-character description of the afternoon’s events the innkeeper had provided them with was disturbing. Had someone impersonated them? Four had a habit of rambling when his fever hit a worryingly-high peak, but he was never loud or obnoxious. 

They arrived at the landing just outside the cramped suite. Legend and Warriors shared a pensive look with each other. It was absolutely silent, no hint of the screaming and shouting and squealing the innkeeper had testified to earlier. Legend drew the glass butterfly bottle in front of his face as if it were a weapon and Warriors kicked open the door with a resolute “hi-yAAAH!” in hopes that the disturbance would startle any potential foes lurking in the room. 

What neither of them expected was to be greeted by the sight of seven sleeping Links. 

Wind, who was covered in powder, had curled up on Twilight’s chest. Time and Sky were sleeping back to back, with a frazzle-haired Wild tucked between them. Hyrule was snoring next to a massive, empty jar of what might have once been butter, face glistening with oil and drool. The unusual bulge of his stomach suggested that the vast majority of the jar’s contents had found a new home. 

And in the middle of it all, a small, snoring, smithy slept, face flushed with health and happiness. 

**Author's Note:**

> Closing notes from the author: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. I always respond to any and all comments/reviews (even though the notification system on Ao3 is real wack these days and sometimes some slip past me). God bless all of you, and I hope this fic was able to cheer you up if you’ve had a bad day. 💚💚💚💚


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